


Colors

by panchostokes (badwolfrun)



Series: Nick/Greg Ficlets [63]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Drabble Series, Drabbles, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-04-23 00:41:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22228615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/pseuds/panchostokes
Summary: A series that explores certain aesthetics and colors, as they relate to Nick and Greg.
Relationships: Greg Sanders/Nick Stokes
Series: Nick/Greg Ficlets [63]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1257824
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20





	1. Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by an amazing anon on tumblr who gave me four options, and I did them all! 
> 
> Prompt #1: blue, cloud association game, birds (as a bonus, I’ll tell you what song I associated while writing this fic–The Waves by Bastille)

They’re lying on a one of Nick’s quilted blankets made by his grandmother that he had taken with him on their trip to California. Greg was taking a brief respite from surfing the ocean’s waves to join his boyfriend, who had his arms behind his head, staring up at the white clouds speckled through the vibrant cerulean sky.

“You’re gonna be as red as a lobster if you don’t lotion up, bro,” Greg chuckles as he dollops some lotion onto Nick’s chest and starts to rub his chest.

“Mmm…” Nick moans, his tongue playfully sticking between his teeth. “Say, what does that cloud look like to you?” 

Greg’s gaze remains on Nick, his skin glistening with a low level of sweat from the hot air, a shade darker than when they first arrived at the beach. From his silence, Nick gathers that Greg wasn’t actually looking at the clouds, so he turns his head and raises his eyebrows at him over his sunglasses.

“Well?” 

“Well what?” Greg asks in a low squeak, blinking . 

“Looks to me like your head’s actually _in_ the clouds, Sanders,” Nick chuckles as he props himself up on an elbow. He points up at the sky. “That one looks like a dog to me.” 

“Dog, sure, yeah.” 

Nick smiles and waves his tongue over his lips before he pushes Greg down with one hand, manipulates his head to look up at the sky. 

“What do you see?”

Greg plays along, stares at the white, fluffy Rorschach test, and sees…

“A bird. Looks like a bird to me,” Greg tells him.

“What kind of bird?”

“I’m not gonna list species, family, genus for you, Stokes.” 

“It goes family, genus, species.”

“Whatever. I don’t know, looks like a seagull.”

“Are you sure you’re looking at the clouds and not at the actual flock of seagulls flyin’ around up there?”

“What can I say, I’m a little…distracted,” Greg laughs as his fingers dance towards Nick’s swim trunks, tugs at the waist strap. 

“You know…I think, uh…Think I got enough sun to suit me, don’t you?” Nick whispers into Greg’s ear. 

“Yuh-huh,” Greg groans as Nick sits up, swings his leg over Greg’s body, straddles his lap.

“Think it’s time I hit some of those waves…” Nick lowers his face down to meet Greg’s, his tongue doing its own little wave over Greg’s cheek. “Show you how it’s done.”

“Oh-ho, is that right?” Greg laughs. “Told you, man, surfing’s a state of mind, you think you’re on the level?”

“It is _so on, _Sanders,” Nick playfully slaps Greg on his shoulder before he spins off, grabs the surfboard and begins to run to the ocean. He twirls around, throwing up a goofy “hang loose” gesture and a wink before he starts to sprint towards the water, and as he moves deeper into the vast ocean, Nick becomes a fleshy speck on a sea of blue, rising and falling with the motion of the water, and with the exhilaration that rises and falls in Greg’s chest. 


	2. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #2: red, autumn, kisses that taste like wine (bonus song, “cherry wine” by hozier also “as it was” by hozier as well)

If you looked up the definition of “romance” in the dictionary, a picture of Nick Stokes would be right next to it. It wasn’t even Valentine’s Day, in fact, they were on the opposite end of the year for that. The stores were decorated for red, but it was for not for the season of love, but the season of change, and the biggest one was lying on the table between them, between a vase of red roses and a trio of lit candles atop a velvet tablecloth, the scent of cherries in the air and on their lips.

Greg had nearly knocked over his glass of wine as he had lunged forward, his hands gripped the edges of the table as he enticed Nick to meet him halfway–he could still taste the wine in Nick’s mouth as they locked in a passionate kiss, it took all of Greg’s will not to just climb on top of the table and tear off Nick’s clothing, dig his fingers into his back, embracing him tighter than ever before, as if he were going to slip through his fingers forever.

Nick, in turn, was also seemingly restrained, Greg can tell he took every precaution to make this night as perfect as it could get, down to creating an autumnal aesthetic among his normally mellow homestead. The walls somehow radiated the soft yellow glow from the mass of candles that smelled like a campfire. Nick was adorned in a maroon turtleneck underneath a tan jacket, the flicker of candles reflected in his earthy eyes, but Greg found himself instead entranced by the slick back pomp of hair that he just wanted to tease apart and ruffle. 

Nick was the first to draw back out of the kiss, though his lips still pouted outwards, his fingers still fumbled for Greg’s, but he picked up the small box that had been placed down on the table instead of the promised dessert, opened it up for Greg to examine the contents.

“So, Greg Sanders…Will you marry me?” 


	3. Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #3: green, mountains, holding hands (bonus song: idk just like, of monsters and men in general)

The color green is more than just a color to Nick Stokes, it’s a sign. Not a sign of danger, though it took him a _long _time to get over that association. Rather, it’s a sign that from the decay of the winter season, life can begin anew. A second chance to start again, dormant feelings blossoming from the ashes, a chance to repair the damages caused by the harsh, freezing burn as the year draws to a close and a new chapter is started. 

And as such, Nick will never turn down the opportunity for any sort of rebirth. He had come close, far too close, to losing his life, _so many times _to let something so small, so meaningless as a stupid argument wilt away his relationship with Greg Sanders, though it was definitely being put to the test as they climbed up a literal mountain together, hoping to rediscover what drew them together in the first place. 

“Are you ready for this?” Greg huffed as they reached a landing, stared up at the peak which still seemed _miles _away. He held out a hand to Nick, who had been climbing on the cliff’s edge behind Greg, showing signs of a struggle as he nearly lost his footing–just holding on by the sheer strength of his body and will, but Greg grew concerned as he watched his shoulder twinge, his fingers trembling, his vein popping out of his neck. “We can go back if you want.” 

“Of course I am,” Nick winked, accepting Greg’s hand, though he didn’t let go as Greg pulled him up and onto the ledge. “What, you crazy or something? No way we’re turning back now.”

“Maybe I am. For falling in love with you,” Greg teased as he leaned against Nick’s shoulder. Hand in hand, they looked at the sea of green leaves that shrouded the path that they had traversed through to get to this point. It was almost comforting to Nick, that the past was covered up by the tree tops, an indication that the past doesn’t matter, not really. All the hardships, while vital to shaping who they are now, didn’t need dwelling on. 

“Only way to keep going is forward,” Nick panted, his fingers tightened around Greg’s.

“Think we’re really gonna get to the top, though? I don’t know, man, seems impossible.”

“As long as we’re together, nothing’s impossible.”


	4. Purple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #4: purple, neon lights, video games (LEGIT THO THIS IS MY AESTHETIC, just, just ALL the songs for this one lmao. Mainly Bastille and Chromatics vibes)

His eyes were heavy, sunken into a skull that felt nailed to the back of his couch. His body entire body was an anchor, he felt no desire to get up to answer the knock on his door, his hands were too busy operating the controller that bridged them together.

“Open!” he managed to shout, though his voice was dull, uninterested as his attention was hyper-focused on the vibrant colors of the screen, the borders of his vision a neon cloud of purple from the back light behind his television. 

“Hey,” Nick greeted the man as Greg’s ears perked at the jingle of keys falling on top of the counter top, he felt phantom bubbles on his tongue at the sound of a beer opening. “You want one?”

“Ya,” Greg grunted. 

“Rough day?” Nick sighed as he plopped down on the couch, Greg could hear the creak of his leather jacket, could already smell the alcohol lacing his breath. Greg nodded for Nick to set his beer down on the coffee table in front of him, and once he did, he could hear the soft scratching of bristles as Nick relieved an itch on his bearded chin.

“Mmhmm,” Greg mumbled, his eyes still glued to the television, his eyes stinging from the over abundance of color

“Yeah, me too. Wanna talk ‘bout it?” 

Greg shrugged, gritted his teeth as he put in more force into the buttons, he needed to get past this obstacle--

His digital avatar got overzealous, lost all of its progress as he fell off of a virtual cliff, and he would have to start his journey all over. He threw the controller down in frustration, picked up the remote control, turned the monitor off, though the purple light still remained, paired with the neon glow that shone through the blinds of his apartment’s window. 

“Me neither,” Nick said as Greg picked up the beer, held it in his hands before taking a long, deep sip. He breathed into the bottleneck as he finally turned his head to look at Nick, and suddenly found himself thirsty for more than just carbonated wheat. 

Nick’s tongue was already sticking out between his lips, he threw his arm behind the couch, shifted his position so that he was facing towards Greg. Purple radiated on half of his body, a gradient over his cheeks, his beard, his jacket, and Greg almost wanted to get a camera, capture this beautiful, almost heavenly aesthetic. A form of ecstasy without a pill, and Greg wanted a taste of it. He leaned forward, holding the beer out and away as he met Nick’s lips, and Nick gently removed both of their beers and placed them on the table, before Greg pushed him down onto the couch and began to peel his jacket off. 

“Purple is a really good color for you,” Greg whispered. 

“Mmm...you too. Then again...I think _all _the colors of the rainbow work on you, baby,” Nick hummed back as he showered Greg’s face in kisses. 


End file.
